


Acts of Faith

by Maayacola



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:51:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maayacola/pseuds/Maayacola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kazuya is going out on a limb, and hoping he doesn’t fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acts of Faith

  
  
  
When Kazuya opens his eyes, it’s to dim, flickering fluorescent lights and an unfamiliar ceiling. The sheets beneath him are coarse (Kame doesn’t even like to admit to the thread count of his sheets at home, it’s so obscenely high) and the air smells stale.  
  
Kazuya’s parents are there, and his youngest brother it sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hello Mr. Kamenashi,” the doctor says, and Kazuya looks at him blearily, trying to focus on the wavering figure of the white-coated man. “Do you know where you are?”  
  
“Hospital,” he replies, the word sticking in his throat and coming out as a croak. Kazuya swallows, and tries again. “I’m at the hospital,” he says, and the doctor nods.  
  
“Do you know what happened, sweetie?” Kazuya’s mother says, gripping his hand so hard it hurts, but only vaguely, as Kazuya’s whole body feels kind of numb. Kazuya has no idea, so he nods is head in the negative.  
  
Kazuya’s father looks down at him, as Kazuya’s eyes finally start to focus. “You were driving down the highway and crashed, Kazuya,” his father says, and Kazuya is confused.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You were driving and you suddenly just drove off the road,” his father continues. “There were no other cars involved. No one was hurt but you. Your left leg has been crushed.”  
  
Kazuya has always been a safe driver, and driving off the road…”How?” Kazuya asks, his brain, still fuzzy from drugs and displacement, struggles to keep up with the conversation.  
  
“We were wondering the same thing, Mr. Kamenashi,” the doctor states, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Your family insists you’re an incredibly safe driver, and so I wanted to investigate other possible causes for your accident.” He opens the folder in his arms, and coughs. “We did a CT scan, and it seems you have a large blood clot in your brain.”  
  
Kazuya blinks slowly. “A blood clot?” His mother squeezes his hands tightly, pressing her lips together tightly. “What does that mean?”  
“Mr. Kamenashi, have you been having any difficulties staying awake lately? Or times where you felt dizzy out of nowhere? Have you fainted recently?”  
  
Kazuya remembers Junno’s frantic face when he passed out after dance rehearsal last week, losing consciousness for almost a full minute. Junno had insisted on driving him home, and demanded that Kazuya sleep at least 8 hours to keep it from happening again.  
  
“Well, yes,” Kazuya says helplessly, “but I’m an idol, and I don’t get a lot of sleep, so…”  
  
“These were warning signs, Mr. Kamenashi, that something was going wrong in your brain. You’re lucky to be alive right now…you could have driven off a cliff, or into a minivan full of children on a soccer team.” Kazuya’s heart almost stops beating at the thought. “You’re almost lucky you got into the crash though, or we might never have found the clot until it was too late.”  
  
“So what…what happens now?” Koji, his brother, is staring, with his eyes narrowed, at the white wall, as if it holds some kind of answer.  
  
“They’re going to cut your head open and suck it out,” Koji says, and Kazuya turns wide eyes to the doctor.  
  
“What?!”  
  
“We have to operate as soon as possible, Mr. Kamenashi. If we don’t, we’re risking brain death.”  
  
Kazuya, who is 2 weeks away from a major Dome concert, about to start filming a new drama, and hasn’t even got time to sleep, can’t imagine having _brain surgery._  
  
“Now is not the best time…” Kazuya starts to say, but the doctor interrupts him.  
  
“Mr. Kamenashi, you don’t really have a choice. You’re lucky you only have a crushed leg. With time, you will regain complete use of it, with no major lingering side effects. But the blood clot—if we don’t operate, you WILL die.”  
  
Kazuya can’t believe any of this. “This surgery…is it safe?”  
  
“Safer than the alternative, sweetie,” his mom says softly, and Kazuya knows that means it’s dangerous.  
  
“Tell me,” he demands.  
  
“The clot is in a difficult place, near your brain stem. There are a lot of risks,” the doctor says. “You could wake up from surgery with no memory, or no motor skills. You could forget how to speak. You could lose function in parts of your body. Best case scenario is that you wake up in 5 days, with no permanent ill-effects.”  
  
“And the worst case?” Kazuya asks quietly, feeling for the leather thong on his neck that holds his lucky five yen coin, and finding it grips the _go-en_ coin tightly in his hand.  
  
The doctor purses his lips. “Full paralysis, or brain death,” the doctor says, finally, and Kazuya nods, fully armed with the facts.  
  
“Well, there’s no choice, right? What do I have to sign?” Kazuya’s mother is crying and his dad is staring down at him with something Kazuya thinks is pride.  
  
‘That’s my boy,” he says, and puts his hand on Kazuya’s shoulder. “You always were strong.”  
  
Koji is staring at the floor murderously, and Kazuya wonders how he went from the top of the world to the bottom in a matter of hours.  
  
***  
  
A few hours before his surgery, Kazuya is watching the news, and he sees his own face flash on the screen.  
  
“27 year old Johnny’s Entertainment idol and lead vocalist of the pop band KAT-TUN, Kamenashi Kazuya, was rushed to the hospital earlier this morning after he was involved in a near fatal car accident on his way to work. Inside sources at Tokyo District Hospital have revealed that Kamenashi passed out behind the wheel due to a blood clot in his brain, and that he will be undergoing dangerous, life-threatening surgery in a matter of hours. We will keep you updated on his condition as we learn more.”  
  
It leaked. Kazuya can practically feel people being fired as he stares shocked at the television.  
  
His bedside phone rings, and he answers in a daze.  
  
“Kame-chan?” It’s Koki. “Kame, is this real? What’s going on?!” He can hear Nakamaru frantically asking question in the background, demanding that Koki pass them on to Kazuya as quickly as possible.  
  
All of a sudden, it feels so terrifyingly real to Kazuya, that he could _die_ in a few hours. “Koki,” he whispers, and Koki swears.  
  
“Shit, Kame-chan, shit,” Koki says. “When is your surgery?”  
  
“At 2 pm,” Kazuya replies, and Koki swears again.  
  
“We’re trapped here, the media is swarming outside.” Kazuya can hear the panic in his voice. “We’ll all be there as soon as we can though, okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Kazuya says.  
  
“You’d better not fucking die, Kamenashi,” Koki threatens, and his voice is strange and choked up, like he’s about to cry. “You’re the lead vocalist, and our band will be shit without you.”  
  
Kazuya laughs, because the other option is breaking down, and he can’t afford to do that right now. “Can you…can you tell Ueda to feed my dogs?” he asks, because it’s all he can think of.  
  
“Fuck, Kame, of course he’ll feed your dogs, idiot.” Koki sounds incredulous now, as if Kazuya is crazy for thinking of that now, but Kazuya doesn’t want to think about the blood-clot in his brain that’s killing him as they speak, and he really loves his dogs.  
  
A nurse comes in to run diagnostics, and she gestures to Kazuya to get off the phone. “I have to go,” he whispers into mouthpiece, and Koki makes this hysterical sound in the back of his throat that comes across as sort of a hiss through the phone line.  
  
“Kame.”  
  
“They have to do some checks and stuff before surgery, so I have to hang up,” Kazuya elaborates, and the nurse smiles at him patiently. “Bye, Koki. Tell the others bye too.”  
  
He’s saying bye, just in case he doesn’t get the chance later. He swallows. “Kame-chan—“  
  
“Don’t forget about my dogs,” Kazuya says, and hangs up. He turns to the pretty nurse and smiles his idol smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”  
  
The smile she gives him in return is far too understanding.  
  
As Kazuya is wheeled into surgery, he focuses on the sheet below him, which is not Egyptian cotton, or anything close to it, because he can’t focus on what’s about to happen. His mom holds his hand in the elevator, and all the down the hall until they reach the double doors.  
  
“You’ll be fine, Kazuya,” she says, as his dad wraps his arms around her shoulders to hold her back. “You’re a survivor.”  
  
Kazuya closes his eyes, and clutches his lucky go-en coin tightly in his hand.  
  
***  
  
Kazuya opens his eyes. “Mr. Kamenashi, can you hear me?” says the doctor, and Kazuya can’t say yes because he’s too deeply under sedation, but he can, he can hear him. He moves his hand a little, hoping the doctor will see it. “The surgery seems to have gone well…” Kazuya hears, and then it fades to black again.  
  
The next time he opens his eyes, his mother is looking down on him, eyes shining. “The boys are here, Kazuya,” she says. “We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up.”  
  
Kazuya blinks at her, and she smiles wide. “A complete success, sweetie. You’re going to be fine.” She smoothes the gauze over his forehead. “You’ve lost all your hair, though, baby. You don’t look much like an idol. Koki-chan is laughing his head off about it, now that he knows you’re going to be fine.”  
  
It makes Kazuya want to smile, but instead he goes back to sleep.  
  
He here’s Nakamaru’s giggle even in his sleep, and it makes it easier to breath.  
  
***  
  
There’s a hand holding his own. The nails are short and blunt, and the fingers are long and calloused. The touch is familiar, and Kazuya feels safe as a thumb caresses the back of his hand, rubbing in soothing circles across his skin. Kazuya cracks his eyes open, just a little, and it’s Jin. He can’t keep his eyes open though, the sleep demons weighing down on him heavily. The next time he opens his eyes, Jin is gone, and Kazuya wonders if he imagined him there.  
  
Several times during the hazy period right after his surgery, he thinks he feels Jin’s presence beside him in the night. Sometimes he thinks he sees him, too, but Kazuya can’t be sure, because painkillers are running liquid through his bloodstream and he finds it too difficult to stay awake for more than 5 minutes at a time. He weaves in and out of consciousness, and the whole thing could be a figment of his addled mind.  
  
“Kame-chan,” Koki says, his voice calm and serious, when Kazuya mentions, tentatively, that he saw Jin. “We haven’t heard from Jin in over a year. I’m pretty sure he’s not sneaking in at night to sit by your bedside.”  
  
Nakamaru grins. “We all know you have crazy dreams, Kame, and the medication probably isn’t helping. This is just one of those. You’re probably just disoriented because you’re in a strange place, and you’re nervous at night.”  
  
But Kazuya can’t shake the feeling that it really is Jin watching over him as he sleeps, and oddly, it’s that thought that makes it okay for Kazuya to close his eyes.  
  
***  
  
Ueda sends Kazuya a cell phone picture of his dogs every day. For Tat-chan, who his not overly emotional or expressive, this is the equivalent of telling Kazuya that he’s been frantically worried, and he’s so happy Kazuya is okay.  
  
Kazuya’s mom turns on the press conference with the guys in his room, so Kazuya can watch. For now, Kazuya’s in a neck brace to prevent him from ripping any stitches, so she props him on a pillow to help him see.  
  
They all look tired but relieved. It’s been four days since the surgery, and they’ve each been by to visit at least twice during the day, just sitting around and telling Kazuya about all the gifts fans keep leaving outside the studio and the exhaustive amounts of internet support for him.  
  
Ueda naturally slips into the position of spokesperson during the conference, and Kazuya remembers him being Leader of KAT-TUN clearly, wondering why he quit. “We’re happy to announce that Kamenashi has successfully underwent brain surgery,” Ueda says, and the room fills with a high-pitched, excited buzz. “He’s expected to make a full recovery,” he continues, over the noise, and the tension in the room significantly melts.  
  
“What does this mean for the future of KAT-TUN?” one reporter queries. “When will you guys be getting back to work? Or will you?”  
  
Ueda clears his throat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t now. What I do know is that we have something much more important to focus on, and that is Kamenashi’s health and recovery. After that, then we can start to look into the future of KAT-TUN’s activities.” The reporter looks a bit chastised—Ueda has a way of making people feel incredibly small when he thinks they’re jumping the gun or being foolish, and reporters are no exception.  
  
Nakamaru clears his throat, and leans into his mike. “All we can ask is that people continue to support Kamenashi at this time, and we’ll let you know more as soon as WE know more,” he states, softening Ueda’s blow with his easy-going charm.  
  
The front they’re showing is united, same as it was last time they were left bewildered by a sudden turn of events that threatened the group's future, when they were told at 8 in the morning one day in March that Jin wasn’t going to come back to KAT-TUN, and there was going to be a press conference at 9.  
  
KAT-TUN’s friendship, Kazuya thinks, might be even stronger than regular friendship, the kind built upon mutual interests and common personality traits, because even though they are all so incredibly different, they have a bond that has been formed by the fire of adversity, and as strong as steel.  
  
***  
  
The first month in the hospital is awful, because Kazuya isn’t really allowed to do anything but sit and recover. The bones in his leg are starting to heal, and every day they decrease the amount of painkillers, which makes him increasingly antsy to start rehab for it. The doctors don’t want to rush. They’re still monitoring his brain, because it’s still healing, and every once in a while Kazuya is stuck with an intense and unexpected dizzy spell, that means even once he’s doing rehab he’ll have to stay in the hospital for observation for a while longer. Even worse are the nosebleeds, which worry the doctors because they won’t stop, and Kazuya has to lie on the bed, head thrown back, while they stick a tiny little camera up into his brain.  
  
So Kazuya watches a lot of TV. He see’s Jin’s face a lot—he’s filming some ridiculously high budget film with Ken Watanabe now, and Japan is throbbing with excitement over the stills released from shooting.  
  
He starts watching an interview with Jin one day, when there’s nothing else on, and his eyes take in the shape of Jin’s face—the curve of his cheek, and the set of his brow. But he also takes in Jin’s smile, and it sits like lead in Kazuya’s stomach how much happier Jin looks now, doing his own thing. It makes him wonder why he was so upset at Jin for just quitting when clearly Jin had been living in misery. But Kazuya can’t help it—when he thinks of the press conference in March 2010, how he’d felt bewildered and lied to and abandoned, he’s still so angry. He grips his necklace tight, and the edges of the coin dig into his palm.  
  
When Junno sticks his head in the door, with a cheerful “Afternoon, Kame-chan!” Kazuya turns off the TV while Jin is in mid-sentence, and gestures for him to come in.  
  
Still, that night, Kazuya dreams that Jin sneaks into his room and sits by his bedside as he sleeps, and when he wakes up in the morning, he convinces himself he can smell the lingering scent of tobacco. But Jin is nowhere to be found, and it’s all Kazuya’s imagination after all.  
  
***  
  
The first day Kazuya is allowed to start rehabilitation for his leg, Yuuichiro, his oldest brother, takes time off of work to come and help him out. “I’m the strongest so I got volunteered,” Yuuichiro says, scratching the back of his neck anxiously, and not looking at Kazuya. Yuuichiro is far from demonstrative, so Kazuya knows this means that Yuuichiro has been feeling helpless in all this, and wanted to do something productive. He’s been to see Kazuya once a week since Kazuya’s been locked up in the hospital, and he’s always quiet. They sit in companionable silence, and sometimes Yuuichiro talks about the news.  
  
One hour later, Kazuya’s whole body is covered in sweat, and his leg aches like hell, but Yuuichiro is holding him up, and Kazuya feels accomplished.  
  
Rehab is not easy. Kazuya sometimes gets dizzy, and his knee gives out a lot. But the rest of the group is waiting, his fans are waiting, and Kazuya fights through the pain and weakness so he can meet them all again on stage.  
  
Johnny has told him to take his time, because Kazuya’s spot will still be waiting when he gets back.  
  
***  
  
Kazuya has avoided looking at himself in the mirror for the past five weeks, afraid of what he might find. He knows he looked terrible for a while, and then they shaved his head when he went into surgery, so he’s pretty sure he looks like ET or something like that and can’t bear to see it.  
  
Today, for the first time, he looks into the glass and stares at his reflection. His hair is growing back, chunks half an inch long poking through the gauze wrapped tightly around his head. His face is a bit swollen from his medication, and his eyes have dark circles under them. There is a fading bruise on his neck that Kazuya doesn’t know if it’s from the surgery or the accident.  
  
But, Kazuya is relieved to see, he still looks like himself. He’s still Kamenashi Kazuya, and he can still be an idol. His hands trail up and down his skin, searching for something, he doesn’t know what, but he doesn’t find it, and he’s so glad.  
  
***  
  
Kazuya is alone today, doing rehab exercises in the hospital gym. He feels dizzy today. The gauze is wrapped too tight around his head, and it’s making him feel claustrophobic. His leg is stiff and tight, and no matter how many stretches he does, it’s still taking too long to respond, reacting a second too slow to commands from his brain, and when it does move, it aches.  
  
Kazuya feels frustrated to the point of tears sometimes, when he thinks about how far he has left to climb until he can perform even the simplest of dance routines, the kind he used to learn in his sleep. Hell, he has trouble walking, still, and although the doctors and his physical therapist both reassure him constantly that he’ll regain full use of his leg in time, it feels impossibly far away.  
  
Forcing himself into one last stretch, Kazuya bends to the side, making a triangle, pulling at both his hamstring and his quad, to try and loosen the muscle just a bit more, and suddenly his leg buckles and gives out. Kazuya, as a gymnast and lifelong idol, knows how to fall, and he braces himself to hit the floor, but he doesn’t.  
  
Strong arms grip him tightly on his upper arms, holding him up, and his nose is presses roughly into a leather jacket that smells strongly of cigarette smoke.  
  
“Are you okay?” Jin’s voice hasn’t changed at all since the last time Kazuya heard it in person. It’s still raw and boyish, unrefined in a way that adds an air of earnestness to whatever Jin is saying, and makes it almost impossible for Jin to be anything but honest about his feelings. It’s one of the things that makes Jin one of the worst idols ever—he can’t fake anything, which is half of the business, at least to Kazuya.  
  
“It _is_ you,” he says, instead of answering Jin’s question, and he straightens himself up and pulls away. He tests his leg just a little; it’ll hold him up, so he takes a step back. “At night, I mean.”  
  
Jin clears his throat, and tucks his hands into the pockets of his coat. Kazuya can’t see his eyes, they are hidden behind oversized aviators, but Kazuya can see the tension in the lines around his mouth, Jin’s upper lip pulled tight like when he’s trying to remember the words to a song. “I’m usually busy during the day,” he says at last. “But I come when I can.”  
  
When he can is every night, Kazuya supposes. “Why?” Kazuya’s toes are cold, and he wants to walk over to his bag and grab his socks, but he doesn’t want to break the moment, not yet.  
  
Jin runs a shaky hand through his unkempt hair. “I thought you were gonna _die_ ,” Jin replies. “I mean, the news made it sound like you were going to die. And I didn’t want the last words I ever said to you to be ‘fuck off Kamenashi.’” Jin chuckles. “Because, you know, even if I meant them at the time, and sometimes I hate you a little,” and Jin stops, and smiles wryly, “I don’t _really_ hate you. And the thought of never seeing you again, and never getting to tell you that…It was really scary, Kame.”  
“Oh,” Kazuya says, and wraps his arms around himself for a lack of better things to do with them that don’t involve nervous gestures. “I don’t hate you either.”  
  
Jin smiles at him, a teeny one that strikes a flickering hope in Kazuya’s chest that Kazuya _knows_ is dangerous.  
  
“You should sit,” Jin says then. “I have to go. I was only going to drop in and watch for a few minutes before my filming today—“  
  
“That’s a bit creepy,” Kazuya interjects, and Jin flushes.  
  
“Well, I didn’t know if you’d want to see me or not,” Jin defends. “I didn’t want to intrude on your overzealous kamikaze rehabilitation techniques or anything—“  
  
“You’re just lazy—“  
  
“I am not lazy, you are stubborn and—“ Jin’s face is scrunching, like he’s gearing up for battle.  
  
“I am not _overzealous_ , I’m DEDICATED, you idiot!” Kazuya retorts, before they both realize, in the same moment, that these are not old times, and instantly, if all feels awkward and tense.  
  
Jin bites his lip, in a way Kazuya has seen a million times before, Jin’s trademark sign of nervousness. “Well, anyway, I have to go.”  
  
“Come again?” Kazuya blurts out before he can stop himself. Jin freezes, and Kazuya wants to hit himself in the head, but figures he clearly already has enough brain damage.  
  
Then Jin smiles, slow and warm, in a way Kazuya hasn’t seen directed at him in so long that it takes his breath away to see it now. “Yeah,” Jin says. “Sure. Yeah, I will.”  
  
Hope is a bright spark as Jin walks away.  
  
***  
  
Jin comes back. Sometimes at night, when all the lights are off, and sometimes in the late afternoon, when Kazuya is finishing his rehab sessions with his personal trainer, a man in his late 40s by the name of Kiriyama, who as the days pass Kazuya starts to find looks more and more like those paintings of the devil he saw at the MoMA, that time he went to New York.  
  
Jin always, without fail, shows up on the days when Kazuya is the most beaten and wrung out, lying limp on the practice mats on his back, sweating profusely and wondering if his leg is ever going to work right. He always sits down beside Kazuya, and pulls his leg into his lap, and massages the tight and sore muscles until Kazuya’s brow relaxes from relief.  
  
“I was reading about this stuff on Google,” Jin says, “and it said that massaging the leg after an intense workout would help with soreness and flexibility.” Jin smiles at him. “I’m probably not the best at it, but I’m what you’ve got.”  
  
Kazuya thinks Jin’s hands are like magic. “Thank you,” he says, and Jin’s hands still, for the briefest of moments, before resuming his kneading motion on Kazuya’s lower leg.  
  
“No problem,” Jin replies.  
  
Once, Jin brings a big bag of McDonalds with him, the smell of salt and carbohydrates filling the air. “Heard hospital food sucks,” Jin offers by way of explanation, as he pulls out an array of high glucose, high saturated fat-filled items. “Quarter Pounder with Cheese is still your favorite, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Kazuya says, laughing delightedly. “Oh my goodness, hospital food sucks so much, you have no idea.”  
  
Jin’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Well, clearly you need some real nutrition,” he says in an authoritative tone, before he leans forward and pokes Kazuya in the clavicle with his index finger, the briefest of touches. “You’re all skeletal and shit.”  
  
They eat Jin’s bounty with relish, while they watch Japanese dubbed episodes of Spongebob Squarepants on the TV, and Jin snorts his cola, and coughs and wheezes, and Kame feels 14, and it’s amazing.  
  
When Jin comes at night, Kazuya is usually more than half-asleep, and Jin usually brings with him a notebook and his mp3 player. For the first 30 minutes or so, he talks to Kazuya about his music, about the songs he’s writing and what does Kazuya think of this metaphor? Does it work? And Kazuya, who misses his job, misses music, is happy to listen to Jin ramble. But then Kazuya’s eyes start to get heavy, so Jin puts in his headphones and scribbles in his notebook, humming a melody or singing brief snippets softly under his breathe. For Kazuya, it’s like a private lullaby, these rare moments of listening to Jin raw with no auto-tune, just his beautiful clear voice echoing against the bare walls of Kazuya’s hospital room. He feels like he’s 14 again, and Jin is sleeping next to him singing subconsciously under his breath as Kazuya tries to go to bed. Jin’s eyes are always closed, and it’s easy for Kazuya to close his eyes too, and drift softly to sleep to the sound of Jin’s sweet song, which is like the ocean crashing at the shores of Kazuya’s consciousness.  
  
And when he wakes up in the morning, on those late nights, Jin is always gone, the only reminder of his presence a lingering smell of cigarette smoke and cherry bubblegum, the kind Jin has chewed since forever.  
  
***  
  
Junno is always so loud when he comes to visit, earning complaints from the nurses which quickly turn to swoons when they peek their heads into the room and see his charming smirk.  
  
“Kameeeeeee,” he drawls, his voice varying in pitch, as he bounces in his seat. “Kame when do you get out of here?”  
  
“Not today, “ Kazuya answers, amused despite himself.  
  
Sometimes they don’t talk, Junno just beeps away on his Nintendo and Kazuya reads a magazine.  
  
“Might as well play here with you,” Junno says. “Nintendo is Nintendo wherever I go.”  
  
He just does it so Kazuya isn’t lonely. But Kazuya enjoys knowing Junno is there.  
  
***  
  
On the 28th of April, Jin comes early. “My movie premiere is tonight,” Jin says, and Kazuya nods. “So, I can’t really come and see you, probably.” It’s the first time either of them has acknowledged that there is a pattern, a schedule, to Jin’s visits, and it makes Kazuya uncomfortable.  
  
“It’s okay,” Kazuya manages, and then he looks down at his nails, which are a little too long. “I’ll be okay.”  
  
Jin clears his throat, and nods decisively. “Well, I’d better be off.” Jin stands, and his sweatshirt slides down his arm, baring a tattooed shoulder. Jin looks like an overgrown puppy, his hair unbrushed and wild underneath a knit hat, and his jeans and his sweatshirts both two sizes too large.  A wave of nostalgia hits Kazuya hard.  
  
“See ya,” he offers, and fires a sideways grin at him.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Bless my heart, is that you, Jin?”  
  
Kazuya’s mother is standing in the doorway, and Jin tenses. She looks shocked to see him, and her eyes are sort of filling with tears in a way that makes Kazuya feel simultaneously pleased and embarrassed, so he can only imagine how Jin feels.  
  
“Oh, you sweet boy, come here,” and she’s wrapped Jin up into a tight hug, and he’s wrapping his arms around her too, lightly, because he probably hasn’t hugged her since he was a teenager. “I’d forgotten how tall you ended up,” she mumbles into Jin’s shoulder, and Jin laughs. “Not all small like my Kazuya.”  
  
When Jin’s left, Kazuya turns at his mother, who has taken Jin’s spot next to the bed. “It’s best if you don’t…mention Jin to the others,” Kazuya says, and Jin’s mother looks at him, slow and contemplative.  
  
“How long has that boy been coming to visit you, Kazuya?” she asks, her fingers drumming on the metal bar on the edge of Kazuya’s hospital bed, kept there in case he as a seizure at night. So far, he’s been lucky, and he hopes there won’t be any reason he can’t go home in too weeks, to finish his recovery in his parents home.  
  
“Since the beginning,” Kazuya replies. “It’s not a secret, per say, but I don’t want to…it’s fine, just like this.”  
  
His mom nods, and Kazuya releases his breath. “Still,” she says. “I’m so happy you boys are getting along again,” and her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. “Even in the worst of circumstances, there’s always a silver lining for every cloud, Kazuya.”  
  
Kazuya thinks maybe this cloud, dark and gloomy and full to bursting, is lined with gold.  
  
Kazuya turns on the news that night, because he knows Jin will be on it. Jin is wearing an incredible suit, a dark charcoal gray that makes his skin look like it’s made of bronze, and his hair is brushed back away from his face and pulled into a low ponytail. His tie is gold, and it’s too much but it’s just right, because it’s Jin. He is smiling and laughing with an American reporter, speaking really good English that Kazuya can’t understand, because he’s never been good at languages, especially not English, because the letter R is impossible to pronounce.  
  
When the coverage has cycled three times, and the same clip of Jin clapping his co-star on the back has been played enough for Jin’s wide open-mouthed smile to become emblazoned in Kazuya’s memory, he turns off the television and tries to go to sleep.  
  
But for some reason, sleep won’t come, and Kazuya lies awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he’s become too dependent on the lilting tone of Jin’s voice every Wednesday night to go to sleep without it.  
  
Around 4 AM, Kazuya here’s the door squeak, and smells unfamiliar cologne and whiskey as a figure flops into the chair at his bedside.  
  
“It felt weird not to come,” Jin slurs, thinking Kazuya is asleep. Kazuya rolls onto his side, as much as he can with the soft-cast they wrap around his leg at night, to keep him from bruising it in his sleep. Jin’s gold tie is undone and hanging loosely around his neck, and his hair is loose now. Kazuya prefers it that way anyway—unkempt and boyish. Jin, when he is neat and perfectly ordered, always looks like he’s playing dress-up. This Jin, a little drunk and a little falling apart, is more authentic, tugging at Kazuya’s memories and at his heart.  
  
“Felt weird for you not to be here,” he whispers, and Jin starts.  He stares at Kazuya for a minute, and Kazuya drinks him in. Jin is not an attractive drunk- his eyes get glassy and his face gets too red. He’s kind of a mess, but Kazuya prefers it that way—likes people to just be people, sometimes. “Sing something,” Kazuya says, and Jin leans his head back, and closes his eyes.  
  
“Okay,” he says, and starts to hum.  
  
***  
  
Koki throws a newspaper onto the bed when he comes into Kazuya’s room, almost making Kazuya drop his coffee. “What’s this about?” Koki’s voice is strange.  
  
Kazuya unfolds the paper, and looks at the headline.   _Estranged friends reunited by tragedy?!_  The headline reads, and then the subtitle: ‘Akanishi Jin spotted leaving former band-mate Kamenashi Kazuya’s hospital.’ Kazuya looks at the grainy photo of Jin, wearing a baseball cap and a giant sweatshirt, and shrugs uncomfortably. “This was last week,” he admits, for a lack of anything better to say.  
  
“So he _has_ been here to visit you, then?” Koki asks, bemused. “That’s surprisingly unselfish of him.” A bit of venom.  
  
Kazuya shrugs again. “I told you he was here at night, but you didn’t believe me.”  
  
Koki, who is stacking and straightening the magazines on Kazuya’s bedside table, stills. “Wait, what?”  
  
“He was here every night for the first three weeks,” Kazuya explains, fumbling over the words in his haste to get them out. “I told you guys that I saw him, and you told me I was hallucinating.”  
  
“What, is he too chickenshit to come during the day, or something?” Koki sneers, a rare expression on his face. Koki is fierce when it comes to his friends, and betrayals sit high on the list of things he hates. Koki scowls still, when Jin’s name is mentioned. It always makes Kazuya cringe. “Just like when he left the band, and didn’t have the guts to do it right.”  
  
“More like he has shooting for his movie from sunrise until late at night everyday,” Kazuya points out gently, but firmly. “And he gave up sleep for three weeks so he could come and see me at all.”  
  
Koki frowns. “Well give the man a prize! So what, all is forgiven now? He doesn’t bother to talk to any of us for over a year, and he shows a glimmer of humanity and now it’s all sunshine and roses?”  
  
Kazuya swallows. “No,” he says. “But it’s a start.”  
  
Koki looks at Kazuya for a long while, before he nods. “It’s your life, Kame. But you were hurt more than the rest of us. I just…Jin’s not _reliable_ , or predictable, Kame, both things you crave in people. And when this is over, and you’re well, I don’t want you destroyed when he disappears, guilt assuaged.”  
  
Koki is Kazuya’s best friend for many reasons, but first and foremost, Kazuya loves Koki’s capacity to care. Underneath his joking and carefree façade is a constant and unyielding pillar of support for his special people, and Kazuya is honored to be one of them. It’s just that Kazuya’s also always had a soft spot for Jin a mile wide, ever since they were just lost kids blindly striving for some crazy dream, and brash, loud, gregarious Jin had chosen _him._  
  
Kazuya presses his lips into a thin line. “He comes three times a week, at least, now that his movie is done, and he just has recording for his new album. During the day, too. He always looks exhausted, but he’s been helping with my rehab.”  
  
Koki nods again. “Alright, Kame, but this is his last chance. If he hurts you again,” Koki shakes his fist pseudo-threateningly in the air, “I’m going to get a restraining order put on him!”  
  
Kazuya laughs, and then Koki is smoothly changing the subject, telling him about the baseball game he and the new gravure model he’s dating went to last week, giving him a play by play of the exciting 6th inning while he forces Kazuya to eat some of the delicious cookies his mom had sent. They’re delicious, and Kazuya sinks contentedly into his pillows, flexing his leg back and forth. It only hurts a little. He reaches for his necklace, rubbing the coin soothingly between his index finger and thumb.  
  
***  
  
Eight weeks after Kazuya’s surgery, his doctor tells him he’s been stable long enough to be released. Kazuya’s walking now, on crutches, his leg still soft-wrapped and mostly useless. He hasn’t had a single seizure, and the gods seem to be smiling down on him, because Kazuya never expected the best-case scenario when his doctor had laid the facts bare in front of him 2 months ago.  
  
Still, it’s a relief to finally be told, with almost 100 percent surgery, that he’s made it. He’s not well yet—he still has moments of dizziness, and he’s got a long way to go before he’s doing flips and running down the different stages at the Tokyo Dome, reunited with his fans. But it still feels like he’s climbed a mountain, and the air at the top is sweet and clear. The view, from up here, is amazing. The descent is daunting, but he knows he can make it.  
  
“I can go home next week,” he tells Jin. “I can’t live by myself, so I’m going to my parents house until they’re sure I’m not just going to pass out when my dizzy spells hit. They’re supposed to go away, though.”  
  
“That’s great news!” Jin says, lips quirking as he looks at Kazuya fondly. “About time, huh?”  
  
“Yeah,” Kazuya answers.  
  
Jin’s face relaxes, and he stares at the wall. “I might miss this room, though,” Jin says, and his tone is unreadable. “Lots of memories.”  
  
Kazuya wishes he knew what Jin was thinking.  
  
***  
  
Kazuya knows it’s coming, but he’s still surprised for some reason when he gets the call from Johnny. “Has your hair grown back?” Johnny asks, his voice gruff and straight to the point.  
  
“Some,” Kazuya says. “I still have to wear gauze though, for another week or so.”  
  
“That’s fine,” Johnny replies. “Your fans know you’ve been ill. But it’s time to show your face, kid.”  
  
Kazuya shivers at the thought, inexplicably. “Yes, sir,” he says, fighting down the irrational anxiety.  
  
“I already told the other 4 boys,” he informs Kazuya, who can’t help but smirk a little at the thought that despite nearing thirty, they’re still considered boys, because Johnny is ancient. “You’re a star, Kazuya, and you can’t let your fans forget it.”  
  
***  
  
It feels like second nature to sit behind a white desk with a microphone, sandwiched between Nakamaru and Ueda, and answer questions about his recovery. There’s an air of solemnity in the room, that Kazuya supposes is caused by short hair and gauze-wrapped temple. It’s so much more real to them now, seeing Kazuya for the first time since the accident, so much more real that he almost died.  
  
He almost expects them to ask about Jin, and it’s a credit to them all that they don’t. Kazuya appreciates it, because he’s not sure what he can say.  
  
“Kamenashi, when do you expect KAT-TUN to make a comeback?” one brave reporter asks, and Kazuya knows they’ve all been thinking it the entire time.  
  
“Well,” Kazuya starts, and the room takes a collective breath. “As soon as I’m cleared to work, we’ll be back in the studio, according to Johnny.” There’s a whoop from the back of the room, and Kazuya smiles, big and wide. “Thank you for you continued support,” he mumbles, struggling to stand. Ueda slips a hand under his elbow to help. Then Kazuya bows, low and deep. “I’m happy to be here,” he finishes, and the conference room bursts into applause.  
  
This applause, this love from absolute strangers…This is why Kazuya does what he does, because he revels in the spotlight.  
  
His phone buzzes while they are in the van back to the jimusho, where Kazuya’s parents are waiting to take him home for the first time in over 2 months.  
  
 _You looked strong, Kame. You’re pretty cool these days, eh?_ It’s a text from a number his phone doesn’t recognize, but Kazuya knows it’s from Jin.  
  
He saves the number as _Hayato_ , and smiles a private smile.  
  
***  
  
Kazuya doesn’t know what to expect from Jin when he leaves the hospital and goes to stay with his parents. He doesn’t know if Jin will still visit at all, and knows that night visits will become completely impossible. A part of him wonders if Koki was right, and Jin’s done his civic duty and that’s it. That their fledgling friendship is all in Kazuya’s head or something.  
  
But two days after he’s moved in, Kazuya’s mother knocks on the door. “Kazuya, you have a visitor,” she says, and then Jin is standing awkwardly in the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot with a shy smile on his lips. “Hey,” he says.  
  
Kazuya feels his mouth part in astonishment. “Did I surprise you?” Jin asks playfully, sitting next to Kazuya on his bed. Kazuya instinctively touches his _go-en._  
  
Jin’s eyes follow his hand, and his eyes widen. “You still have that?” He reaches out, like he wants to touch it too, but drops his hand at the last second.  
  
Kazuya remembers when Jin gave it to him.  
  
“It’s a pun, sort of,” Jin had said. “Or a metaphor.” He had blushed. “It’s 5 yen, right? But it’s also _gouen,_ strong relations. If you keep the one I gave you, we’ll always be together in some way.” Jin looked really embarrassed. “Too gay?” he said, laughing a little at himself.  
  
Kazuya had put it on a piece of leather he nicked from Yuya. Jin noticed his new necklace a week later, and the smile he had given Kazuya had been blinding.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jin rests his fingertips lightly on Kame’s arm, right above his wrist. “Not this time.”  
  
Kazuya wants to believe him, so he does. It’s an act of faith, really. The _go-en_ is warm against his chest.  
  
***  
  
Nakamaru is the first person besides Kazuya to see Jin. He drops by one day, on his way home from dinner with his own parents, to check on Kazuya, and startles when he peeks his head into the bedroom to see Kazuya lying on the bed, doing his leg exercises while Jin sits on a bean bag on the floor, flicking chords on his guitar and scribbling into his notebook, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.  
Nakamaru’s face is anxious, to anxious, and Kazuya smiles at him to diffuse the tension. “Maru! Come in!”  
  
Jin looks up, then, from his notebook, eyes wide and skittish, like a colt about to run. Kazuya looks over at him and meets his gaze steadily. _They’re part of the package,_ he wills Jin to understand. That if he wants to be friends with Kazuya, he’s got to stop running away from things that make him uncomfortable, things that are difficult.  
  
Jin slowly puts down his guitar, and stands up. “Hey Jin,” Nakamaru says, hesitantly, and Jin just stares at him. Kazuya doesn’t know what Jin will do, and it makes him nervous.  
  
Jin suddenly drops to his knees, and then leans forward, resting his forehead on his hands in a traditional Japanese bow. Then he stands up, and does it again, and then again, as Nakamaru watches in disbelief. Finally, after 5 or 6 bows, Nakamaru reaches toward Jin, putting a hand on his shoulder to still him. “Stop,” he whispers, his eyes softer than Jin has any right to expect.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jin says formally, and then “Sorry…” again, mumbled as his forehead stay resting on his hands, body bent forward in the most humble submission of Japanese culture. Jin’s neck is exposed, in the way of the samurai, in easy position for Nakamaru to take his head.  
  
Kazuya knows what this means to Jin, because Jin is one of the most prideful people Kazuya knows. He never apologizes, never takes things back, and always skirts his way around problems, never taking responsibility for his actions. To see him now, on the floor, so humbled in front of Nakamaru, is painful to Kazuya, and all he wants is for Jin to stand back up.  
  
Nakamaru knows too, how difficult apologies are for Jin, and he looks aghast at the sincerity Jin displays. “Jin,” he says uncomfortably. “Jin, _get up_!” Jin doesn’t move, just stays there with his head resting on the back of his hands, awaiting judgment. “I forgive you, now get up!” Nakamaru is hissing now, embarrassed himself. “You’re being an idiot!”  
  
Kazuya watches, and wonders if everything might turn out okay after all.  
  
***  
  
Jin is icing his leg, and Kazuya is wincing at both the burn of his muscles and the ice applied directly to the strain to prevent swelling.  
  
“You’re pushing too hard,” Jin says, his fingers gentle yet strong, pressing confidently into Kazuya’s flesh.  
  
“I have to dance,” Kazuya says. “I can’t even walk, and I already need to be running.”  
  
“Slow down, Kazuya, or you’ll slow your recovery.”  
  
Jin’s hands are hot against his skin.  
  
***  
  
Ueda brings his dogs to his parents’ house. “Ran really missed you,” he says. “I forget your other dog’s name, but I hate him.”  
  
Kazuya laughs. “What did he do?”  
  
“He ate my punching bag. How did such a tiny dog eat my punching bag?”  
  
“Jelly is ferocious, even though he’s small,” Kazuya defends, and Ueda cracks a brief smile.  
  
“Like dog like owner,” he responds. Kazuya blushes.  
  
Ran crawls into Kazuya’s lap. “Hey guy, I missed you!” His dog licks his face effusively, making Kazuya giggle uncontrollably because it tickles.  
  
“We all had dinner with Jin last night,” Ueda says offhand, like he isn’t dropping a major bomb on Kazuya. “He explained everything, and just sat there and took our abuse for about 2 hours.”  
  
Kazuya is silent.  
  
Ueda makes a thoughtful sound, before he continues. “I…didn’t expect myself to want to forgive him, for some reason.”  
  
Kazuya nods. “I know what you mean.”  
  
“What did you think of it? What he had to say about how it all went down?” Ueda looks pensive.  
  
“We haven’t…talked about it, yet,” Kazuya admits, and Ueda looks at him sharply.  
  
“Then why…?”  
  
“It’s Jin,” Kazuya replies helplessly, and Ueda leans close to him, and sinks his fingers into Ran’s fur.  
  
“Oh,” he says, looking at Kazuya out of the corner of his eye.  
  
“Tatsuya…”  
  
“You should…ask him,” Ueda interrupts. “Just…even if you don’t need to know, to forgive him, you should hear what he has to say.”  
  
Ueda is trying to tell him something.  
  
“It’ll make you feel better,” Ueda elaborates. “Because it has nothing to do with us.”  
  
***  
  
When nature calls, Kazuya gets up without thinking to go to the bathroom. It’s only when he’s halfway back to his bed that he realizes he’s not using his crutches, and that for the first time, his leg is supporting is weight while walking.  
  
He sits down heavy on the bed, excitement thrumming through his veins. Without thinking about it, he picks up his phone and calls Jin.  
  
Jin answers, sounding hoarse and groggy. “Kame, it’s 4AM,” he says, and Kazuya starts, guiltily.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t even think. It can wait.”  
  
“No it can’t, or you wouldn’t have called.” Jin sounds amused. “What is it?”  
  
“I just _walked,_ ” Kazuya squeaks excitedly. “I wasn’t even thinking about it, and I walked. No crutches. And it didn’t hurt a lot, either!”  
  
Jin’s breath hitches over the line, and Kazuya can hear, rather than see, Jin haul himself up into a sitting position. “That’s _fantastic,_ ” Jin says genuinely, and his voice is warm.  
  
Kazuya leans back against his pillows, curling up on his side with the phone pressed against his ear. “It’s starting to feel real to me,” Kazuya whispers. “Like I might get back on stage someday. That this nightmare is going to end.”  
  
Jin hums. “You’re doing really well, Kame. I don’t think…”Jin’s voice trails off. “I don’t think I cold have been as strong as you. I probably just would have sat back and yelled and had a temper tantrum because the world wasn’t being fair.”  
  
“I’ve thought about that a fair amount myself,” Kazuya replies.  
  
“But,” Jin interjects. “The difference between you and me has always been perseverance, Kame. I’m ambitious, and like trying new things. But you’ve always had the courage to see things through until the end, even when they get hard.”  
  
Kazuya glows a little, at hearing this opinion of him, of hearing it from Jin, who is always taunting him for his single-minded pursuit of perfection. Jin words are like a balm to his fragile ego, and they fill him with a liquid warmth. Kazuya’s chest and stomach feel like he’s just taken a shot of vodka, heat flooding and burning. “Thanks,” he whispers finally into the mouthpiece.  
  
“That’s just what I think,” Jin says chuckling, and Kazuya can hear that his voice is a little dry and hoarse with sleep.  
  
“Not just…not just for that,” Kazuya mumbles, and Jin is quiet. “Jin, can you sing something?”  
  
Jin makes a startled noise.  
  
Kazuya flushes, but repeats his request. “Can you sing something? I can’t sleep.”  
  
“Oi, are you saying my voice is boring?” Jin teases, but his voice lacks heat, and then he is singing.  
  
Kazuya falls asleep to Jin’s voice coming tweedy through the phone, curling up into a ball with his hand wrapped around his coin. He dreams about sunflowers, and when he wakes up the next morning, phone loosely in his grip, it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had since he left the hospital.  
  
***  
  
Kazuya’s apartment has a thick layer of dust when he first opens the door. Jin, who is carrying Kazuya’s suitcase, drops it unceremoniously to the ground, and the dust flies up into the air, sending them both hacking and wheezing to the kitchen for water. Jin’s hands automatically go up to the cabinet where the plastic cups are—Jin has a way of dropping glasses, so Kazuya had bought plastic cups for him to use. They haven’t been used in years, but Jin still remembers exactly where they are. Kazuya likes that. Likes that time has passed but Jin still fits into his life.  
  
Ran and Jelly are running around his legs in circles, and Kazuya laughs because they’re both a little dusty now too.  
  
“Well, looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me,” Kazuya says wryly, surveying the apartment with amused eyes. He limps over to the sink, and opens the cabinet underneath, pulling out a couple of old dishtowels. He stretches his leg absentmindedly.  
  
For the past two weeks, Kazuya’s been walking without the crutch, but his leg still feels weak. He’s been meeting with some personal trainer slash rehabilitation expert that Johnny’s had picked out, six days a week, and there was a marked improvement of maneuverability, Kazuya notices it a little every day. He still gets a little dizzy sometimes, but not enough to stop him from moving on. His doctors are amazed by his CT scans, at his rapid recovery.  To Kazuya, it feels anything but rapid, but secretly, Kazuya’s always been the most impatient with himself.  
  
Jin grabs one of the dishtowels, and runs it under cool water. “So where should I start, captain?”  
  
Kazuya is startled. “Jin, you don’t have to—“  
  
Jin licks his lips impatiently. “I’ve only got two hours until I have to be at the studio, Kame. Tell me what I can do before then.”  
  
Kazuya sends him to wipe down the bookshelves and table in the living room, and smiling to himself, listens to Jin humming as he starts washing the kitchen counters.  
  
***  
  
He can’t remember the last time they were all together in the same room. When Junno called him and told him they were all coming by to see him, Kazuya had been startled to open the door and see five people. All of them hadn’t meant Jin in a long time—longer than it had been since Jin had left the group, Kazuya acknowledges in his mind.  
  
He can’t sit still as their laughing voices fill the apartment, anxiously getting up and down to bring more snacks to the table or refill his water glass.  
  
“Hey Kame-chan, do you have any wine?” Koki asks, and Kazuya immediately starts to jump up, but Jin beats him to it, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Don’t overdo it on your leg,” he mumbles, and Kazuya blushes inexplicably at the intimate touch. Jin massages his leg pretty often, but their touching is limited to that, except for a casual brush of hands sometimes, or their arms touching each other when they walk side by side. Jin’s hands feel strong and broad on Kazuya’s shoulder. “Still in the same place?”  
  
“Yeah,” Kazuya replies, and Jin disappears into the kitchen. He comes back to the living room with the wine and 5 glasses on a tray—Kazuya can’t drink at all for another few months. Kazuya glances at Koki, only to see Koki is staring at him, a small frown on his face. Kazuya’s heart clenches nervously, wondering what is putting that look on his face.  
  
But Kazuya forgets about it as Jin laughs at something Nakamaru is saying, and Nakamaru makes a put out expression. Jin’s laugh is healing, Kazuya thinks. It’s healing them all.  
  
Later, when only Jin and Koki remain, Kazuya is trying to clean up and his first dizzy spell in weeks hits. The world goes a bit fuzzy, and Kazuya drops the glass he’s holding. Koki’s eyes, even through his haze, looked panicked, and Kazuya tries to find the words to reassure him, but Kazuya’s more focused on finding purchase in consciousness. He almost falls, but then there is a strong arm around his waist. “Steady,” Jin whispers into his ear, and Kazuya doesn’t feel any shame as he leans into the touch, resting his spinning head against Jin’s warm chest.  
  
Jin leads Kazuya to a kitchen chair, setting him down carefully. “I told you not to overdo it,” Jin scowls, and Kazuya just puts his head onto his arms, waiting for the world to stop spinning.  
  
“What the fuck was that?” Koki asks, sounding concerned.  
  
“Dizzy spells,” Jin explains thankfully, as Kazuya doesn’t want to lift his head. “He still gets them sometimes. From the blood-clot.”  
  
“Shit, that was scary,” Koki grumbles. “Are you going to have them forever?” He looks terrified at the thought of having a friends who passes out without warning.  
  
“No,” Kazuya says. That’s the first one in weeks. In the beginning I got them almost every day.”  
  
“Oh,” Koki says, and bites his lip. Jin moves away from Kazuya, turning on the sink and washing dishes as if it was his apartment. Koki goes to help him, not sure what else to say. Kazuya just sits at the table, enjoying the feeling of the cold wood against his head.  
  
When Jin sets a glass of ice water next to Kazuya, and heads to the restroom, Koki sits down across the table from Kazuya. Kazuya looks up and meets his eyes. “I was wrong,” Koki says. “I think he’ll stay.”  
  
Kazuya’s hands reflexively grasp for his _go-en_ , and he toys with it. “So do I,” Kazuya replies, and smiles at Koki.  
  
Koki stares at him, eyes a little wide. “Kame-chan, do you…?” He shakes himself. “Never mind.”  
  
Jin comes out of the restroom, and apologizes profusely because he has to leave for a meeting. He nods at both of them, and it’s just Kazuya and Koki left. They watch TV for a little while, music television, and laugh at Hey!Say!JUMP’s ridiculous new MV, because they know they’ve made worse.  
  
Kazuya eventually convinces Koki it’s safe to leave him at the apartment alone, and Kazuya leans back against the couch, head thrown back to stare at his ceiling.  
  
What seems like moments, but is probably hours, later, Kazuya hears the lock of his door turning, and he jolts awake.  
  
It’s Jin. He grins at Kazuya. “Your spare key is still in the same place,” he says in explanation, then frowns. “Why aren’t you in bed?”  
  
“Fell asleep here,” Kazuya admits sheepishly, and then Jin is ushering him into bed, tucking him into the covers, and then standing awkwardly by his bedside.  
  
Kazuya is almost asleep again. “Stay,” he mumbles.  
  
“What?”  
  
He pats the empty space in his bed—it’s a king-size, and he’s not a large person to start with. “Just…stay. And sing,” he demands, his voice thick with sleep.  
  
Jin hesitantly lies on the bed. There is about a foot between them, but Kazuya can still feel Jin’s irrepressible warmth on his left side.  
  
Jin’s singing is much better in person than through the phone, and Kazuya’s dreams are filled with sunflowers again.  
  
When he wakes up, Jin is gone. But there’s a note on his kitchen table.  
  
 _Meeting with execs today. SUXXX. But see you tonight? Take-out okay? Txt me._  
  
There’s a trembling feeling in Kazuya’s chest that he doesn’t understand, like a butterfly trying to push it’s way out of a cocoon and spread it’s newly formed wings. He didn’t realized how much he had missed Jin until Jin was here again. Kazuya’s fingers clench his necklace, and wonders why Jin has always been able to dig so deeply into his heart.  
  
***  
  
This time, when Kazuya gets a call from Johnny, he is waiting for it. “TIme to record kid,” he says, without greetings or pleasantries. “It’s time for KAT-TUN to come back.”  
  
The single is slow, but upbeat. It’s just the right kind of song to perform acoustic, standing or sitting still in front of a mike and displaying vocal talent over flashy dance moves. KAT-TUN hasn’t done one like this is a while, but it’s perfect-- Kazuya still can’t dance, not yet, although he gets closer and closer every day.  
  
When Kazuya opens his mouth to sing, in the recording booth, for the first time in months, he feels like he’s coming home. Ueda, who’s singing the harmony, looks at him from his mike, grinning.  
  
They’re back.  
  
The fans roar when Kazuya steps on stage for the first time in over three months at Music Station. “Kame, Kame, Kame,” he hears, and he’s full to bursting.  
  
“Did you miss me?” he says into the mike, in a low voice, before winking salaciously. He runs a hand through his hair-- it’s only an inch long, shorter than he’s ever worn it, but Kazuya thinks he might like it. There’s nothing to hide behind, and his face looks too angular and too harsh, but it’s a reminder that he survived. _It’s just hair_ , he thinks. I _t’s just hair._ But the fans are screaming, screaming themselves hoarse, and Kazuya can’t do anything then, but sing from his heart.  
  
After the show, Kazuya is sweating and shaking and overwhelmed. His phone rings, and it’s Jin. “What a great performance,” Jin says, and he sounds like he’s traveling.  
  
“Where are you?” Kazuya asks, basking, just a little, at the praise he hears in Jin’s voice. Kazuya hasn’t needed Jin’s praise since they were young, but Jin gives praise so rarely that Kazuya always glows when he gets it, because Jin wouldn’t say it if he didn’t really mean it, and sometimes he wouldn’t say it even if he did.  
  
“On my way to a meeting,” Jin sighs. “Are you free tonight?”  
  
Kazuya looks over at the others, who are squirting each other with water bottles and laughing at Nakamaru, who looks put upon as usual. “I might stay with the guys,” Kazuya answers, and Jin clears his throat.  
  
“I meant...later than that,” Jin clarifies, his voice anxious. “I...never mind.”  
  
Kazuya sucks his lower lip into his mouth. “I...well, you should come, then,” he says, as if it’s no big deal that Jin wants to come over to his apartment in the middle of the night, for no reason. Kazuya’s not sick anymore, and there are no more excuses, only...”I sleep better, when you’re there,” Kazuya admits, quietly.  
  
Jin exhales, and it’s loud in Kazuya’s ear. “I write better, too,” Jin replies. “I’ll see you around 3, then.”  
  
“Yeah,” Kazuya says, his heartbeat accelerating for reasons he doesn’t understand.  
  
***  
  
Jin is walking on the treadmill next to him, keeping pace with Kazuya as they reach the halfway point on their third kilometer. “Run the last half?” Jin says, turning to looks at Kazuya, who is already sweating and wheezing. Jin is unaffected, his hair still hanging loose and fluffy around his shoulders.  
  
“I hate you, right now,” Kazuya says as he adjusts the speed on his treadmill. They run the distance, and when the treadmill starts to slow down, easing into cool down mode, Kazuya grips the bar to support himself. His leg and his chest are burning.  
  
He looks up at Jin, whose face is lit with sheer joy. “You did it!” Jin says, and there’s pride in his slightly flushed face, pride for _Kazuya,_ and it makes Kazuya feel fully, like he’s just eaten a huge meal or like he’s just finished a huge concert, that kind of satisfaction.  
  
Jin is sweating now too, some of his hair sticking to the back of his neck and his skin a pretty rose color from exertion. He looks graceful though, and Kazuya can’t stop staring at him, wondering when Jin had become so beautiful.  
  
He swallows, hard, and pushes the thought away.  
  
***  
  
Kazuya’s first choreography session, after 4 months of rehabilitation on his legs, is like running a marathon.  
  
Koki is slapping him on the back, hard, when they finish, and then grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. ‘Kame-chan, you’re back!!”  
  
Kazuya, who is wheezing and puffing and redder than he’s ever been in his life, manages to beam back at Koki, and then they’re all grinning at each other, excitement visibly crackling in the air.  
  
Dome show. Dome show.  
  
But when Kazuya gets home, his leg starts to cramp up. The pain is intense, and he can’t bring himself to do anything more than prop it up on the arm of the couch, unable to even go and get painkillers. He calls Jin, but Jin doesn’t answer. He thinks about calling one of the others, but then he remembers their excited faces and feels like he can’t tell them how much this hurts.  
  
When Jin comes over to check on him and sees a sweaty, un-showered Kazuya lying on the couch, he immediately retreats to the kitchen for a glass of water and some ibuprofen. He hands them both to Kazuya, who takes them gratefully. “I got your call,” Jin says, “but I was on the phone with my U.S. record company.” He gently lifts Kazuya’s leg and slides under it, so that it rests in his lap, and pushes up his sleeves. “I’m glad you called. I knew to come over as soon as I could, because you never call.”  
  
Kazuya sighs in relief as Jin slowly starts to work his magic on his leg. His fingers press into the aching muscles, turning the burning pain into as steady, dull, manageable ache. “You’re a lifesaver,” Kazuya tells him, as he finally relaxes into the couch.  
  
“Choreo was rough today, huh?” Jin replies.  
  
“Yeah,” Kazuya hums, “But the show is going to be amazing.”  
  
“Of course it is,” Jin chides. “KAT-TUN is always amazing.”  
  
And Kazuya finally wants to ask. “Then why did you abandon us?” he asks, and Jin’s hands still for a moment, before resuming their massage of Kazuya’s injured leg. “I was wondering when you would get around to asking,” Jin finally answers. “There are many reasons. But I never thought about it as abandoning you.”  
  
Kazuya is quiet. He doesn’t want to interrupt, he just wants to listen.  
  
“When Johnny said to me, ‘Jin, do you want to do solo work?’ I didn’t even consider saying no.” Jin rolls his neck, and there’s a soft cracking sound. “Then he said ‘I’m going to take you out of KAT-TUN.’”  
  
Kazuya bites his lip.  
Jin takes a deep breath. “He said ‘You guys sound fantastic together, but Jin, you don’t belong there. You’re too brash, and too different from the other guys. And I want to try and do something different with you.’ And honestly? I wanted to try something different too. I loved doing solo stuff. Up on the stage, singing what i wanted to sing, and dance how I wanted to dance; it was the most excited about performing that I had been in a long time. And _America_...” Jin stops for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “I liked performing with you guys, too. But writing my own songs...singing to crowds who liked the real me, just me, no costumes, no holding back-- I loved that. I still LOVE that.”  
  
Kazuya’s hands are clenched into fists. He gets that. He really does, but he doesn’t...”So why did you just disappear?”  
  
“I thought,” Jin says distantly, “that I would have more time to tell you before Johnny hauled me on stage to announce it.” He looks down at his hands, which are resting on Kazuya’s leg. “I thought I would have more time, and then I didn’t. And I knew you’d be angry, that I didn’t tell you myself.” He quirks a smile. “I’m not terrific at apologizing, and I’m not terrific at acknowledging my own mistakes.”  
  
Kazuya feels his eyes start to sting. “So you just decided not to face us at all? Not to even try?”  
  
Jin’s hair falls in front of his face, obscuring Kazuya’s view. “I never claimed to be smart, Kame. I never claimed to be anything but me.”  
  
“All this time,” Kazuya says, and his own voice sounds miles away from him, as if he’s hearing it from the inside of a bubble. “All this time, I thought it was because of me.”  
  
Jin looks up then, into Kazuya’s eyes, and his shock is visible. “Oh Kame, _no_ ,” he says, shaking his head in denial. “ _No._ ”  
  
But Kazuya can still remember that day clearly. Summer was setting in, in earnest, and Kazuya was hot, too hot, and irritated, and Jin was being apathetic, his mind clearly somewhere other than here ,with the group, while they discussed their next single. He remembers picking a fight. He remembers the last words he said to Jin. “If you’re going to be like this, you might as well not be here at all.”  
  
He remembers Jin’s last words to him. “Fuck you, Kamenashi,” before he stormed out of the meeting room.  
  
The next day, it had been official.  
  
“Kame, Kame, _no!_ ” Jin says, and his hands are clenching on Kazuya’s shoulders, and his grip is too tight. “It was decided before that, Kame. It wasn’t you,” Jin repeats, and Kazuya feels a heavy weight lifting off his heart. He feels freer. He hadn’t even known the weight was there, but now he is looking at Jin with fresh eyes, and an open heart. “It wasn’t you,” Jin says, one last time, pulling Kazuya in for a hug, the first one they’ve shared in years and years. Kazuya’s _go-en_ is sandwiched between them, and Kazuya can smell the sweat in Jin’s hair. His arm is trapped at an awkward angle, but it doesn’t matter at all, because Kazuya is so fucking happy.

 

***

 

As Kazuya’s rehearsals increase to every day, and Jin starts rehearsals too, for his new album, somehow Jin starts to sleep at Kazuya’s apartment. He always stumbles in, with the key Kazuya finally just gave him, at around midnight, sweaty and exhausted. He quickly showers, and then comes and joins Kazuya on his bed, sometimes with his guitar, and sometimes he just pulls Kazuya’s throbbing leg into his lap to gently massage it the way he learned months ago watching a YouTube video about rehabilitation.

 

Kazuya can’t really believe it’s been over 4 months since the accident, but he also can’t believe it’s only been 4 months since Jin. He thinks of his life sometimes in terms of Before Jin, and After Jin, but he doesn’t use acronyms because…well, it sends his mind in directions he doesn’t want it to go in.

 

Anyway, sometimes Jin sleeps on his couch, but sometimes Jin falls asleep writing music on the bed, and Kazuya tucks him in, under the blankets, smiling at him softly before drifting off himself. And Jin’s deep breathing, it turns out, is just as comforting as his lullabies, because Kazuya can always fall asleep to the rhythmic, soothing sound of Jin beside him.

 

It takes Koki to point out the obvious, that he is now living with Jin, when Koki eavesdrops on one of his phone-calls with Jin. “What time are you coming home tonight?” Kazuya asks Jin, mentally planning what he’s going to cook.

 

“Maybe around seven or eight?” Jin replies. “I’m not really sure, cause we’re doing the jacket shoot for my album tonight.” Jin sounds exhausted already.

 

“Okay,” Kazuya says. “Good luck today. See you later.” He ends the call, and Koki is staring at him, one eyebrow raised.

 

“You and Jin are living together now?” Koki asks, something teasing and entirely inappropriate in his voice.

 

“Not really,” Kazuya says, but as he says it, he realizes it’s a lie. Jin must go back to his apartment sometimes, because Jin is constantly wearing different clothing and he never uses Kazuya’s shampoo when he showers because “it smells like gay.” But there is a steadily growing collection of oversized sweatshirts on the chairs in Kazuya’s bedroom, and Jin has a Badtz Maru themed toothbrush in Kazuya’s bathroom, that Kazuya had picked out for him one day as a joke at the convenience store when he complained about always having stale breath when he stayed over with Kazuya.  “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

 

“All I know,” Koki says, “Is that you asked Jin if he was coming _home_ , not if he was coming over.”

 

Kazuya starts. “Oh,” he says, and then thinks about how quiet the apartment is until Jin comes, and thinks he doesn’t mind if Jin thinks of his apartment as home, since Kazuya can’t imagine home without him anymore.

 

***

 

One morning, Kazuya wakes up groggy and extremely hot, sweating in the heat of his bed. He tries to push the covers off of him, but they’re a living breathing human, in the form of Jin. Jin’s arm is thrown over his waist, pinning him to the bed. His breath blows warm on Kazuya’s cheek, as he inhales and exhales, and Kazuya can’t move, frozen by his shock. He swallows, and tilts his face a little, to look a Jin’s peaceful features, relaxed in slumber. His lips are set into a natural pout, and his eyelashes, from this close, look endless. His face is close, too close, and Kazuya’s heart doesn’t seem to be beating.

 

He pries Jin’s hand of his waist and retreats to the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water as he tries to calm his frazzled nerves.

 

The next night, when Jin sleeps on the sofa, Kazuya in so, so cold in the night, and when he wakes up, he’s rolled up in his comforters and he’s still shivering.

 

***

 

Kazuya notices them more now, the small miniscule little touches he never noticed before, just Jin’s arms brushing against his, or the way Jin is always absentmindedly picking lint of Kazuya’s flannel button downs, or the way Jin’s thigh presses against his when they sit next to each other on the couch while Jin attempts, for the millionth time, to explain to Kazuya why soccer is interesting.

 

Nakamaru isn’t one to miss much, Kazuya thinks wryly. “What’s wrong?” he asks Kazuya, one day when Jin is with them, and they’re eating ice-cream cones on the back porch of Kazuya’s parent’s house. Kazuya’s mother is delighted to have “all her boys” over, and feeds them enough to feed a whole army, or the cast of Dream Boys. Jin is roughhousing with Koji and Koki on the lawn, pushing and shoving them for possession of the frisbee, in order to send it whizzing hazardously toward Ueda, who is his teammate.

 

“Has Jin always been so big?” Kazuya asks him, and Nakamaru is contemplative.

 

“What do you mean?” He takes a big bite of his ice cream, and then dances around a little in place at his brain-freeze. “Cold, cold, it’s cold!” Kazuya laughs, and shakes his head.

 

“Are you sure you’re one of the oldest?” He grins, and turns his eyes back to Jin, who is now being pinned to the ground by Koki, who is relentlessly tickling his collarbone. “Mercy, mercy!” Jin screeches, in the high-pitched yell he’s famous for, and Kazuya forgets where he is for a moment, just watching him. Jin sparkles, even in the rapidly sinking sun, as nighttime encroaches upon them.

 

Nakamaru calms, and takes another, smaller nip at his ice cream. “Jin’s pretty charismatic,” Nakamaru says. “But,” and Kazuya turns to look at Nakamaru now, and Nakamaru is looking right back at him. “But Jin’s always been something different for you.”

 

Kazuya licks his lips, and tastes chocolate ice cream. His hair is sticking uncomfortably to his neck—it’s just long enough that it annoys the hell out of him, but to short to pull off his neck in any way. And he considers. “What do you mean by that?”

 

Nakamaru chuckles to himself. “I dunno Kame, but everything Jin does cuts you twice as deep. It’s scary how much you care about what he does…it’s why he made Koki nervous, worming his way so deeply back into your life before we could blink.”

 

The chocolate is too sweet. “Okay,” Kazuya says, and Nakamaru stands, and gives him a hand up. “We should join them, huh?”

 

Kazuya nods. The smile Jin throws at him, when he joins the game, melts Kazuya’s insides faster than the heat had melted his ice cream.

 

 

***

 

Kazuya is flush with exertion and adrenaline, and can feel the screaming of his fans rushing through his veins. It’s like liquid energy. He knows he’ll be tired tomorrow, exhausted even, and that his leg will be absolutely useless, but right now, he feels like he’s on top of the fucking _world,_ and nothing will manage to push him down. He’s bursting with joy and success, floating on it, incapacitated by it.

 

When he sees Jin, standing assuredly backstage in their dressing room, his hands in his jeans pockets, hair loose and a brilliant grin lighting up his whole face, Kazuya doesn’t think. He just grabs Jin’s face, and pulls it down to his own, planting a big, loud kiss on Jin’s smiling mouth. Koki lets out a loud whoop of amusement, and Ueda makes a disgusted groan.

 

Jin freezes, and Kazuya drops his hands and leans away. He grins nervously and takes a step back, but then Jin is grabbing the lapels of his ugly velvet suit and dragging him back in, diving in with an open mouth to capture Kazuya’s lips with his own. Jin’s tongue immediately licks at Kazuya’s lips, and Kazuya allows it in, his own tongue reaching out tentatively to tangle. They kiss slowly and thoroughly, and Jin makes a sweet sound in his throat that sends a trill singing through Kazuya’s gut.

 

Nakamaru clears his throat, and Jin reluctantly (and it’s so reluctant, Kazuya can tell) breaks the kiss, breathing as hard as Kazuya, who just put on a three-hour comeback show at the Tokyo Dome. Jin’s eyes are closed, and his face is rosy pink with embarrassment or pleasure, Kazuya can’t tell. His lips are swollen too, looking inviting, and Kazuya doesn’t know why he hasn’t ever done this before—why he hasn’t been kissing Jin’s pouting, sensual, irresistible mouth his whole life. 

 

“This must stop,” Ueda says. “I want to be able to eat again, sometime in the future.”

 

Junno only looks mildly interested, twirling a piece of feathered hair around his fingers as he stares at them.

 

Nakamaru and Koki look like proud fathers on their kids’ first day of school, looking at Kazuya dotingly like he’s just gotten an ‘A’ on a test.

 

And maybe he has, Kazuya thinks. Maybe he just got an ‘A ‘on the most important test of his life, and his prize was kissing Jin, was Jin opening his mouth to feel more of Kazuya from the inside out.

 

Jin’s eyes, now, are dark with the promise of later, and Kazuya shivers when his fingers linger on Kazuya’s arm even as they turn back to their friends, (all of whom have expressions containing various shades of amusement,) and rub slow patterns into the sensitive skin at the inside of his elbow.

 

***

When they get home late that night, tension is coiled like a cobra in Kazuya’s belly, slithering and hissing against the walls. He locks the door of his apartment, and follows Jin to the couch, sitting next to him. The silence is thick, but not awkward.

 

“You kissed me,” Jin says, finally, his voice a little shaky. Kazuya clenches his hands into fists, resting them against the leather of the sofa in order to keep himself from covering his face. He turns to look at Jin, who is staring at him with something dark and exciting in his eyes. “What took you so long?”

 

And Kazuya leans forward and kisses Jin’s left eyebrow, then his right. He places a small kiss on his nose, before finding the corner of his mouth and kissing him there, too. Jin groans impatiently, his hands fisting in Kazuya’s t-shirt, jerking him forward, before he covers Kazuya’s lips with his own. This kiss is even better than the last one, if only because they are alone, and Kazuya doesn’t have to fight the moan that bubbles up inside him at the sweet feeling of completion that kissing Jin gives him. It’s like Kazuya is suddenly wide awake, and every sensation is twice as strong as usual. He feels every ridge of Jin’s mouth, and every small brush of Jin’s chapped lips against his own. His body tingles at the slight brush of Jin’s knuckles against his sides through his shirt, and he hears Jin’s tiny gasps and murmurs as if Jin is in stereo, echoing through his head and his heart.

 

He kisses Jin desperately, as if Jin is going to disappear, and Jin is kissing him back just as fiercely, until they are tangled together on the leather sofa, limbs intertwined as they kiss. Their kisses are becoming sloppy and wet. More often than not, Jin misses his mouth when he slides back in, leaving a trail of saliva across Kazuya’s cheek, but Kazuya’s guilty of the same.

 

Finally, their kisses slow, and Kazuya finds himself resting on Jin’s chest, Jin’s arms wrapped around him tightly, hold him close. Kazuya is gripping Jin’s shoulders, assuring himself that this is real, that Jin is here. His necklace is digging into his clavicle, trapped between their bodies. It feels warm against Kazuya’s chest, and it hurts, the way it’s pressed into his flesh. That helps Kazuya remember this is real, that small pain.

 

But Kazuya’s heart is beating fast, and suddenly he’s so afraid that if Jin disappears, if he disappears now, everything will hurt twice as bad as before, and it’ll be one mountain Kazuya can never climb. After all, anything Jin does has always cut him twice as deep.

 

Jin moves on hand to pick up Kazuya’s, and laces their fingers together gently. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. “Not this time.”

 

And Kazuya exhales. Kazuya wants to believe him, so he does. It’s an act of faith. The _go-en_ is warm against his chest. 


End file.
